


Serendipity

by CC (ccwriter)



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-01
Updated: 2002-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccwriter/pseuds/CC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky & Hutch find something they didn't know was lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

 

He first thought it was an earthquake. What else could cause the bed to shake so violently? Lurching into a sitting position, he checked to see if his bedmate had also been jolted awake. He was surprised to find himself alone, even though the darkened windows told him he shouldn't be.

The bed rattled again, but now awake, he noticed that nothing else in the moonlit room was shaking. Not an earthquake after all. He began to sink back on the bed again when sudden movement and a slightly muffled curse drew his attention downward where a man's body, only partially clad, lay prone on the floor beside the bed. Or rather – most of a partially clad body. While the lower half lay exposed, the upper body disappeared under the bed.

Using his elbow to prop himself up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Leaning forward slightly, he peered over the edge of the bed and let his eyes fully register the familiar dark-haired calves, slightly bowed, the muscled thighs disappearing into black silk boxers, and the tiny bruises, faded little half-moons, which dotted the back just above the waistband. He smiled. He would know this body anywhere, even without the context of time and place. Memories of those calves pressing into his back, the power of those thighs squeezing his hips, the silky, sweaty smoothness of the skin just before the bruises were created compelled him to trail his fingers lightly along the back of the man lying below him.

Perhaps it was the lightness of the touch – or maybe the source of it – that caused the body to twitch and jerk. A head banged on the bottom of the bed, generating another round of muffled curses. After a flurry of twisting and wiggling, a dark curly head emerged from its hiding place.

"Damn, that hurts." Starsky rubbed the back of his head while he pushed himself to his knees.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to make you do that." Hutch turned on the bedside lamp.

"'S alright. Didn't mean to wake you up."

"'S alright. What time is it?" Hutch asked, leaning over to pull a puff of dust trapped in the web of dark curls.

"I don't know. Early. Late. I don't know." Starsky sat back on his heels, squinting against the brighter light.

"Care to tell me why you're crawling around on the floor in the middle of the night?"

A small shrug. "I dreamed it was under there." Starsky's reply was little more than a whisper.

Hutch leaned back on the bed. He knew without asking what 'it' was. The necklace. The one his lover had worn every waking minute since Hutch had given it to him eight months ago. The one he had trusted Hutch to keep safe during a basketball game the day before. The one that disappeared somewhere between the park and home.

He closed his eyes against the memory of Starsky's panicked expression when the necklace couldn't be found in the safety of Hutch's pocket. He would never forget the fear on his partner's face during the frenetic search of the jacket, the car, and the park. Throughout the night, as Starsky asked him again and again to retrace his steps, he tried to imagine the slightest shift in balance or weight that might have been the necklace escaping its safe hideaway.

Hutch opened his eyes and chanced a peek where Starsky still knelt, hands resting on his knees, eyes boring a hole into the floor. When Starsky reached up again to rub his head, Hutch noticed that his other hand held something in its grip.

"What's that?"

"What?" Starsky looked around.

"That." Hutch pointed to Starsky's hand.

"Oh. Found my yo-yo. " Starsky mumbled. "Wasn't even looking for the dumb thing."

"Serendipity." The word slipped out before he could think better of it.

"Sarah Who?"

"Serendipity. Chance meets fortune." Starsky's blank look and his own eagerness to promote any conversation that didn't involve the necklace compelled Hutch to go on. "It's when you find something you weren't looking for. Remember the other day when we went to Taco Heaven for lunch, but found out it was closed? We had to go to that new deli – Manny's -- instead. You found out they had those meatball sandwiches you like so much. If Taco Heaven hadn't been closed, we never would have gone to Manny's and you wouldn't have had your meatball monstrosity. It was serendipity."

Hutch watched as Starsky stood and walked toward the bed, turning the yo-yo over in his hand. The barest ghost of a smile had reached his lips. "Is it like when we went looking to pick up Joey Kramer on that bookmaking charge, only when we got there, he was gone? But on the way back to the car, you saw Fat Frankie, who we've been trying to find for months and so we got him instead. Is that it?"

"Something like that, yeah." Hutch was relieved that Starsky was finally talking about something besides the necklace. He also took it as a good sign that Starsky was getting back into bed.

"I never heard of it before," Starsky said, sitting back against the headboard, his hands mindlessly twisting the string of the yo-yo.

"It's from some old fairy tale about these three princes. I can't remember how most of it went."

Starsky sighed and closed his eyes. "Well, you can keep your sara-dipity. I don't want it."

"Serendipity. And what do you mean, you don't want it? You found your yo-yo, didn't you?" Hutch asked, trying to ease the subject away from the necklace again.

"If serendipity means I'm getting this yo-yo back instead of my necklace, then I don't want it." Starsky looked at the toy with disgust. He reached back and dropped it behind the headboard as if that would undo his discovery of it. "Wish I'd never found the damned thing."

"Starsk, I'm sorry I lost your necklace. I know it meant a lot to you—"

"It means everything to me, Hutch." The fierce emphasis on the word 'everything' twisted Hutch's heart.

"It was an accident, Starsk. I promise you that if we can't find this necklace, I'll get you a new one. I promise." Hutch knew the words were useless, but he didn't know any other way to ease his partner's grief. He was unaware of the desperation that crept into his voice.

Starsky didn't miss the change in tone. "Hutch, I know you didn't mean to lose it. I don't blame you. And I appreciate the offer, but I don't want a new necklace. I just want this one back." He slid down into the bed with a sigh.

The sorrow in his lover's sigh gave Hutch's heart another twist. Cold misery washed over him accompanied by a seed of dread. With bone-chilling clarity, he realized that this wasn't about the missing necklace at all. It probably never had been.

"Starsk? Do you want to talk about what's bugging you so much?" Hutch risked the question, but he didn't know if he was ready for the answer.

Starsky took a deep breath before he answered. "Hutch, you know why that necklace means so much to me. You gave it to me."

"I've given you other gifts, too, Starsk, but something tells me you wouldn't react the same way if you lost one of them," Hutch said, genuinely puzzled.

Starsky turned onto his side to face his partner. "No, I wouldn't, even though I appreciate them. This one just has a lot more attached to it."

"Like what? I don't understand. I want to, but I don't." Hutch turned onto his side.

Starsky lifted his hand to smooth his partner's bangs. With his thumb, he gently massaged the crease that had appeared between Hutch's brows. "I remember when we went to bed that night, you said you had something special for me. Me being me, I thought you were talking about what was in your pants." Both men smiled at the truth of Starsky's words.

"Keep going," Hutch said. The niggling of dread he had felt earlier was easing as he listened to Starsky talk.

"I remember when how you looked when you took the necklace off and put it on me. Your hands were shaking. You said something about how on a cop's salary, it was the closest you could get to giving me the moon and the stars. Sounds kind of mushy now, huh? It didn't sound so mushy then, so stop blushing." Hutch had put his hand over his face in mock embarrassment. Starsky reached up to pull the hand away, turning it until their fingers were interlaced against his chest.

Hutch rolled his eyes and laughed. "I've got to come up with better lines."

"Hey, Blondie, you won't be needing lines for anyone else and I like the ones you got just fine," Starsky said.

Hutch was encouraged that his partner's mood seemed to be lifting. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember thinking that something was different about you, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Then, when the loving started, it was like you had suddenly become some other person. It was sort of like you had some kind of power over me that you thought might evaporate."

"Kind of like Superman?" Hutch asked, puffing out his chest.

"Yeah, or maybe Cinderella." Starsky's retort was answered with a resounding raspberry. "I don't know what it was, Hutch, but it was special."

Hutch sobered as he heard the wistful note return to Starsky's voice. "And the special isn't here anymore?"

Starsky quickly looked up into Hutch's eyes. "Oh no, what we've got is very special. But that night was the first time I felt it." He leaned up on his elbow. "I thought I knew what being in love was all about, but when that night was over I realized I didn't know anything about it before. That night was the first time I really, really knew what it felt like to be in love."

Hutch said nothing, so Starsky continued. "Afterward, when we were just lying there, we were all sweaty and exhausted, but you had the most peaceful look on your face, like there wasn't anywhere or anyplace on earth you'd rather be. Like the only thing you had to do for the rest of your life was lie there with me. The only part of you that was moving – probably the only part that could move – was your hand. It kept rubbing my neck, tracing the necklace. Seemed like it went on for hours." Starsky didn't realize he had closed his eyes to the memories. Now opening them, he looked at Hutch. "Anyway, that's why I've got to get my necklace back. It's got a lot of good memories with it."

"Sounds like you've got the memories even without the necklace, Curly," Hutch said.

Starsky nodded and turned onto his back. "Yeah, but I like having it around me all the time. When you're not here, or when you are here, but you're being a bastard, I can just touch my necklace and I remember that night. Makes me feel calm and peaceful. Loved."

The second Starsky spoke the words, Hutch's mind was flooded with a dozen instant flashbacks. Starsky splayed out on the sofa, watching television, his finger looped through the necklace, sweet private smile on his lips. Starsky laughing and giving in during one of their more heated arguments, rubbing what Hutch thought was the collar of his shirt, but now knew was the necklace. Starsky lying spent and exhausted under him, while Hutch slowly stroked the necklace.

Damn, he thought. I should have made him feel loved like that without his having to depend on the necklace. Silently cursing himself for not recognizing the needs of his partner, he thought back on what Starsky had said about that special night. Hutch had indeed felt powerful that night – the power that comes from knowing love with absolute certainty. The first time he had felt it was the night he fastened the necklace on his partner. He remembered how his hand shook when the mythical thunderbolt hit him. He still felt its aftershocks every time he looked at Starsky.

Mirroring his partner, Hutch turned onto his back. He lay in silent contemplation for several moments, trying to conjure up some way to take Starsky back to that feeling.

Suddenly his eyes brightened with the light that said they hid a secret. He sat up.

"Starsk?" Hutch grabbed the side of the bed and shook it. "Feel that?"

"What?"

"Feel the bed shaking? Wonder what it is?" Hutch looked at his partner in faked astonishment.

"What are you up to now, Blondie? We really need to get some sleep." Starsky shook his head at his partner's actions.

"I think – could it be? Yes, I think my special powers are returning." Hutch turned and leaned down to hover over his partner, pausing before whispering, "Superman's back."

Laughing now, Starsky regarded his partner. "I hope it's Superman, 'cause I've been done with Cinderella's for awhile now." He quieted as he sensed Hutch moving closer.

Hutch held his hand up in front of Starsky's face, enticing him to follow with his eyes its slow descent to his throat. Slowly, he trailed his fingers around the same path as the cord that once graced the neck. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss in the special sweet spot just below the Adam's apple. He felt Starsky's quick intake of breath and allowed himself a small smile before continuing the kiss along the neckline to the top of the shoulder and slowly tracing his way back across until he reached the opposite shoulder. He repeated his trek over and over until a fine sweat beaded his lover's neck.

Hutch brought his hand up to take the place of his mouth on Starsky's neck, while he continued the kisses along his partner's jaw and chin, pausing only when he reached Starsky's mouth. Lifting twinkling eyes to meet his partner's, he whispered, "Let's make a memory."

Starsky's low guttural moan made Hutch smile again before he took his lover's mouth in a tender kiss. His hand continued its lazy journey back and forth across the bottom of Starsky's throat. As the kiss deepened and became more passionate, he allowed his hand to travel slowly downward, tracing a new path across his lover's chest and abdomen. He felt the power in his touch as Starsky's skin tightened under his hand.

His own breathing heavier now, Hutch kissed his way back down to Starsky's throat, retracing the path first followed by his lips, then by his hand. He used his tongue to mark the trail from shoulder to shoulder, lingering in the small hollows above his collarbones to draw sweat-beaded skin into his mouth. His hand continued its torturous course across Starsky's body, now moving lower to slide his lover's shorts down his hips.

Starsky managed to rouse himself enough to help remove them completely.

Hutch tongued his way lower, making slow, swirling patterns in the coarse, dark hair before tracing wet circles around first one nipple, then the other. He moved more quickly back to Starsky's throat and alternated his kisses with tender bites. His hand roamed back to Starsky's abdomen, where he continued his petting with long, tender strokes.

As he continued his assault from the crest of one shoulder across to the crest of the other, Hutch watched Starsky intermittently try to raise one or both of his arms in response. Each time, Hutch changed his method of attack -–biting, kissing, licking, or sucking - while sending his roving hand a little lower. The effect on Starsky was immobilizing, and his arms fell back to the bed; his breathing had become heavy and broken.

Finally, after eternal minutes had passed, Hutch's hand reached the base of his lover's erection. Starsky roused himself long enough to put a restraining hand on Hutch's arm. "Don't or it'll be over."

"It's not a contest," Hutch said, the words nearly unintelligible since he wouldn't remove his lips from Starsky's neck. He knew Starsky was close to the edge; it was his power that put him there. He felt – almost heard - the electricity thrumming through his lover's body.

"But you aren't-" Starsky's argument was shortened when Hutch loomed over him and then claimed his mouth with a long, luxurious kiss. Starsky' responsive moan led Hutch to shift his lower hand and begin a gentle, rhythmic stroking. He could feel the tension building in the body underneath him. He slid his mouth down Starsky's chin and resumed planting wet kisses and sharp little bites with greater intensity across the now well-traveled path on Starsky's throat, each kiss or bite a little harder than the others. As he increased the intensity of his mouth and tongue, his hand gripped harder and pumped faster. Starsky had long since given up trying to breathe and could only pant, inhaling just enough oxygen to stay conscious.

"Huutch...." As Starsky gasped his name, Hutch lifted his mouth and blew little puffs of air along the wet trail on Starsky's neck. The cooling sensation on his hot flesh was both painful and pleasurable at the same time, and Starsky's jangled nerves could endure no more. Hips thrusting upward, he climaxed over Hutch's hand.

Even after Starsky lay still, Hutch continued cooling his neck with his sweet breath. Back and forth he went until stopped by his lover's hand cupping his jaw.

"Jeezus...what did you just do?" Starsky's look of genuine puzzlement brought a smile to Hutch's swollen lips.

"You liked that?" The intensity of his concentrated efforts along with the heat from

Starsky's skin had left Hutch sweat-soaked and exhausted. He shifted to his side and relaxed against the length of his lover's body.

"I was trying to hide it, but yeah, I kinda enjoyed myself." Starsky smiled. "Jeezus, I can't believe you did that with just your hand."

"My hand and your mind...." Hutch lifted his lover's hand and pressed the palm to his lips.

"What do you mean 'my mind'? I was out of my mind, in case you couldn't tell."

Hutch kissed the pulse point on Starsky's wrist before answering. "My point exactly. I wanted to give you something new to remember. Just in case we can't find your necklace. You know, for those times when I'm not here, or I'm here but I'm being a bastard...." He gently nipped the skin on Starsky's wrist.

"Well, you did that, Baby Blue, you did that. Now, lemme catch my breath a minute. I'm sure you've got something that would like a little remembering, too." They both looked down where Hutch's erection, once daunting, lay resting between their bodies.

"You don't have time to rest." Hutch said. "In case you haven't noticed, the sun's up. We've got to get ready for work."

"Jeez, I didn't even notice," Starsky groaned.

"C'mon, get up. If we take a shower together, we might have enough time to make me a memory, too." Hutch nudged his partner out of bed, but surprisingly stayed where he was.

As soon as Starsky turned on the bathroom light, he saw his reflection in the mirror and froze. He blinked to be sure the added light was not playing tricks on his eyes. But no, it was still there.

"Hutch," he called, but received no response. He called louder, "Hutch!"

"What?" The reply came from just outside the door.

Without turning, Starsky asked, "What in the hell did you do?"

"Starsk, it kind of just happened." Hutch answered, leaning against the doorframe. His expression was somehow sheepish and smug at the same time.

Still not believing what he was seeing, Starsky leaned closer to the mirror to better see the solid line of red covering the space where once his precious necklace lay nestled against his throat. It was even worse up close. Or better -- he couldn't decide which.

Mottled in places, the line held no gaps as it wound a slightly crooked path from one shoulder to the other. He lifted his fingers to touch it. Instantly, he "felt" Hutch's mouth ravaging his neck again, slowly moving back and forth. His legs trembled with the intensity of the memory. Even the memories from his other necklace hadn't been this strong.

His other necklace. Reality slowly dawned on him. "Oh, God, it's a necklace. A hickey necklace." A smile slowly formed on Starsky's lips.

"An accidental hickey necklace, Starsk." Hutch saw and heard the smile, but still maintained the space between them. "I kind of got carried away, huh?"

"Kind of? Hutch, my neck hasn't looked this bad since high school." Starsky turned his head from side to side, checking his neck from all angles.

Hutch took one step into the bathroom. "Well see? You can say it takes years off of you."

Starsky reached backward with both arms, encouraging Hutch to join him in front of the mirror. He pulled Hutch's arms around his waist and leaned back into him, the better to admire his neck.

"It's kind of like that sara-dipity thing, isn't it, Hutch?"

"Serendipity. Why do you say that?" Hutch rested his chin on Starsky's shoulder.

"All I wanted was to find my necklace so I could keep remembering that night you gave it to me. It was all I could think about. But if I hadn't lost it, you wouldn't have done what you just did and I wouldn't have these new memories." Starsky's voice held a sense of wonder.

Hutch pressed his lips into his partner's dark curls before answering. "Well, I guess that makes it serendipity, then. But what happens when your hickey necklace fades?"

Eyes still fastened on his neckline, Starsky replied, "We'll just have to make a new one, won't we?" His eyes began to twinkle. "Or better yet, maybe you can give me a hickey belt instead. Maybe a hip-hugger."

"I don't know, Curly, that's kind of a wide area to —" Hutch's reply was cut short by a quick elbow jab before Starsky pushed away to turn on the shower. Hutch watched as his lover took the soap from its dish and tossed it onto the shower floor.

"Okay, Blondie, your turn for some sara-dipity. Bend over to get that soap and see what you discover."

Laughing, Hutch stepped into the shower, pulling Starsky with him. "It's serendipity, dummy. And I'll take my chances."

 

 

The End

*


End file.
